


Xeno

by cloudsane



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Anal Fingering, Demon Sebastian Michaelis, F/M, Female Reader, I wrote this instead of doing work, Implied Sexual Content, Reader-Insert, Slight Smut, Slight fluff, Teasing, injuries, mention of drug use, mention of sexual abuse, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23903536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsane/pseuds/cloudsane
Summary: As the new maid, an attempt to impress the butler at the Phatomhive Manor turns into a rather painful situation that leaves you feeling doubtful about your new position. You are unsure of what your future holds until things begin to happen that ignite a desire you weren't even aware you had.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! A lot has been going on lately and I graduate college in less than a few weeks, which is exciting, but it's been v hectic and stressful so to keep myself from going absolutely crazy, I took a break to write something :^) I know this anime is old news now but it's still a fave of mine and for some reason, I couldn't find the motivation to write abt anything else! 
> 
> Just a TW: there is a hint of suicide at the beginning and a slight hint of sexual abuse, so if that is something you feel uncomfortable with reading, please navigate away! I would hate to upset anybody ; n ; 
> 
> Lastly, please forgive me if anything seems OOC, I didn't bother rewatching Kuroshitsuji seeing as I've seen it over and over so many times before lollll I basically wrote this on a whim so hopefully it does not suck :'^) <3

**xeno**  
**n**. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.

* * *

There wasn't a waking hour of the day that you didn't question where you would be right now if you never would have been in that God-forsaken city that night. 

Jobs were hard to come by, especially for a woman of your age and stature. Nothing was going to change. You might as well have been waiting out a death sentence, living in filth with rats and insects, and that despicable man that claimed you would never be able to leave him. You couldn't stand to bear another day having to face his wretched existence, allowing him to carry out his putrid desires within your body, curdling your conscious mind and leaving you miserable under his care. 

You'd made the decision to flee once he had isolated himself after wasting yet another day of his life downing unnecessary medication until he'd maxed out on its dosage. Thereafter, the rest of his evening was usually spent indulging in useless conversations and frivolous games with his confidants that were typically born to no better habits than he was. 

Your body was bruised, aching, in no condition to be traveling. But you may have gone completely mad if you had to survive another twenty-four hours in his presence. 

Making your escape wasn't difficult; there was nothing that could rattle him after he had passed out in his intoxicated state. Rather, it was making a new life for yourself that intimidated you the most. Even after you had broken free, the void within you remained. It followed you everywhere you went, reminding you that it was always going to be there to drag you down until you eventually gave in. 

On a particular night of your journey, you stood motionless on the edge of a bridge, staring down into the murky, thick currents beneath you. Your intentions weren't foul, but even the water had more of a life than you did, flowing and crashing where it pleased. The thought of leaping through the air and down onto those rocks had been one that you desperately avoided on more than one occasion, but tonight you candidly felt as though you had nothing to lose anymore, nothing to give. It wasn't an enormous drop, but you calculated that the jagged edge of a protruding boulder should be enough to pierce you if you landed right. 

Had you not hesitated a moment longer, your existence would have been erased completely, a dejected memory of a young woman in eastern London that was unimportant and unknown to most people. 

But in your juncture of longing for life to finally release you, there was a voice, calm and ever so insistent. 

"Pardon me, if I may inconvenience you for just a moment." 

Your head snaps around, unaware that anybody had been within eyesight of your exact location. You were sure that you had sought out an area that was widely uninhabited with another soul. To be interrupted right now was the last thing you wanted. 

"What? Where did you come from?" The words leave your mouth with questioning annoyance as you look upon the keeper of the voice that cut through your efforts to conclude your life sentence on earth. 

He is tall, almost unnaturally so, with pale skin that glows against his shadowy, black dress attire. He looks polished and expensive, and your mind is suddenly distracted from your current endeavor at-hand as you question why somebody of his social status is on this side of town.

"There is something I must bring to your attention," he speaks again and you are able to hear his tone more clearly. It's prompting, but he doesn't seem to be threatening. 

"You can tell whoever sent you that I don't care." You respond firmly, turning away from his peculiar form and back to the raging waters below you.

"I can assure you that I am here on my own accord, miss." Though his voice is grave, you catch an underlying tone of amusement, which serves to agitate you even more.

"What do you want, then?" You're becoming impatient with the unusual intrusion, and you aren't sure how much longer you would allow yourself to tolerate it. 

"I'd like to make you an offer. Of course, it's one that you may refuse if my words have failed to change your mind." 

You fully expected his extension to entail a mere night's rest and a meal before turning you over to the authorities so they could inevitably lock you away in an asylum for the rest of your days, to which you were readily apt to decline. However, his next words brought something new to you, something promising. 

"You see, I am the most honorable butler at the Phantomhive manor. I came to you today to propose you take-up work there temporarily. While I am not the only source of upkeep, I'm beginning to fear that the others are falling behind on the day-to-day responsibilities that the estate requires. Your presence amongst them would surely boost their morale, and if you do your job well enough, I may even consider your permanent placement within the Phantomhive household." 

His statement shifts the entire dynamic of your mindset. Naturally, one would have been skeptical of the true intentions of such an advance, but something about him—whether it be his lustrous appearance or aura of smooth, educated dialect—gave you some abstract reason to believe that he was telling the truth. 

Your eyes, now ballooning in optimism, desire, aspiration, begin to permeate with tears. Eventually, you lower your body to a crouch as you slowly swing your battered legs around off the ledge of the bridge. 

"Of course you won't be paid for your dutiful commitment, but the manor is located on the outskirts of London, and I'm sure that you would adapt promptly to your new surroundings far away from whatever matter was troubling you so much here." He continues, but coaxing you at this point was unneeded. 

You keep your lips sealed, too afraid that anything you may have let slip past them would expel itself in a croak. He was an odd man, and you hadn't recalled his position wavering in even just the slightest as he remained still as a statue. But this was your opportunity for redemption from the position you had walked into blindly years before this night. The thought alone nearly filled you with unsuppressed ambition. 

"Do you accept?" He asks with inquisitive quality, the smallest of smirks present on his angelic lips.

You wipe the tears on your cheek with the back of your hand and nod in approval. 

"Very good. I'll allow you some time to prepare and-"

"I'm ready now." You shorten his amicable sentence with an eager, shaky voice of your own, peering up at his face, into his eyes. 

"I had taken that you needed to gather your things-"

"I don't have anything. It's just me." 

You feel sheepish for speaking over him, but you wanted to be as far away from here as possible before your doubtful brain had time to simmer and change your mind. 

At this, he nods warmly, and you have to restrain yourself from lunging forward in an attempt to embrace him. 

It's not long before you begin to feel indebted on the ride across the countryside, passing hills and forests, and rivers you never knew existed. But that feeling is pushed far out of your mind as your thoughts start to drift to the promise of long-awaited security.

* * *

Months have passed since your encounter with the butler, who you later came to found out was called Sebastian. And as he predicted, you became quite comfortable in your new environment within a reasonable amount of time. 

The other servants welcomed you graciously upon your arrival the first day and you learned quickly what was expected of you. Most of the time, you worked alongside Mey-Rin, a slim, enthusiastic young maid who had been quartered at the Phantomhive manor long before you arrived. You often listened to her chatter more than you would have preferred, but she kept good company and the two of you carried out tasks vigorously together. 

On this particular afternoon, Sebastian had graced you two with the chore of tending to the magnificent garden surrounding the estate. He had notably raised the issue of the briars growing too thick and becoming unsightly, so while your partner picked weeds and fertilized the remaining area, you took it upon yourself to take care of other, more pressing matters. 

As you observe the riotous, vine-like branches of thorns, you began to feel disheartened. You wouldn't possibly be able to eliminate every single one before you had to move on to your next duty. But you were plagued with the desire of housing here permanently, and cleaning these up completely would surely persuade the butler that you were capable of going above and beyond. 

By the time you've made even just the slightest of dents, you're sweating and pieces of your hair are beginning to come undone. You needed to have more to show for your current state of exhaustion, continuing to pluck and pull by the handful. Your palms were sore from where the thorns had worn through the gloves, but you willed yourself not to take a break. Somewhere along in your drive to continue, you'd become a bit too hasty to finish and unknowingly let a bramble of thorns tangle around your ankle. It was far too late before you'd realized, however, stumbling forward into your fate. In a panic, you attempted to stabilize yourself which led to even greater disarray as you realized your body was beginning to fall forward into the patch of stickers. 

Unable to stop yourself, you regretfully accept your demise, landing squat on your back within the bed of spines with a loud, pained curse. You feel the barbs sink past the fabric of your uniform and into the entirety of skin on your backside, rendering you utterly useless as your flesh began to sting hotly. Mey-Rin abandoned the large trash bag she had been making use of once she noticed your condition, rushing to you frantically as you struggled to climb out of the briar patch.

"Oh, no! Not the briars! Um, what do I do, what do I do..." 

Her exclamation seems even more exasperated than you are, even in your misfortune, cupping her face with her hands as she paced in one spot. 

"Just help me up!" You squealed, outstretching a hand for her to grab, in which she yanked much too faithfully, the sudden action causing you even more discomfort as she attempted to pull you up. Her rescue was inevitably unsuccessful, and she began to grow even more alarmed each time you cried out. 

"You're too heavy, I can't do it! I-I I'll get Sebastian, stay right there!" She let go of your hand without another shrill word, spinning on her heel as she ran to fetch help.

"No, wait, come back! I can't let him see me like this!" You yelled without delay to her silhouette, which was now out of earshot as she hurried up the long stone stairway to the entrance of the manor. 

You sighed as you waited motionless for the butler's dreaded physique to come making his way towards you. You fretted that he would take one look at you and immediately dismiss any consideration to keep you around. If only you hadn't of been so eager...

A few minutes later, you see Mey-Rin's burgundy ponytails bouncing in the distance, feeling your chest fill with unease as she points a finger towards you. 

"I think she got caught in the briars, yes she did! I can’t get her out!" You hear her high-pitched explanation as she nears closer with the tall, dark figure of Sebastian trailing not far behind. You know she means well, but right now you can't help but feel cross with her for running off so suddenly.

You bite your cheek as he approaches you, humiliation unfurling at your core as you think about how helpless you must appear right now. 

"What is going on?" He asks you gruffly, crimson eyes narrowed in unrestrained irritation. 

"I'm sorry, I tripped while pulling the briars and I guess I kind of...panicked and got even more tangled up." You admitted shamefully, watching his brow soften as if he pitied you. His countenance looked upon your immobile position as he sighed softly, but not forcefully. 

"Thank you, Mey-Rin. You may resume your previous task at hand," he informed the first maid’s rather frazzled demeanor before turning back to you, "I'll take care of her." 

She scuttled away, flashing you a look of apprehension once she noticed that he was paying her no mind. Her facial expression concerned you more than the consequences of your fault, and you bite your tongue nervously as you watch him stride around to stand behind you. 

He gripped you beneath your armpits like a child, lifting you effortlessly to your feet as the remainder of a few thorns clung onto the backs of your thighs, which were now bleeding and scratched in various places. 

"Th-Thank you, it won't happen again." You offered a meek gesture of reassurance with a bashful expression, wasting not a single second to turn away from his incriminating stare. 

"Where are you going? You cannot possibly continue to work like that, can you?" To your dismay, you couldn't detect a hint of indignation in his voice as he spoke. You presumed the question to be rhetorical, but when he remained planted in front of you, you understood that he was giving you a choice. 

"Oh, uh...no, I guess." You answered him, glancing down at the starch white fabric of your apron on your uniform that was now sullied with dirt. Your thigh-high socks had done nothing to protect you in your fall, now ripped and blanketed with smudges of grass and soil. 

"Come. I'll remove the barbs from your skin at once and see to it that you have a fresh uniform for tomorrow." 

You nodded courteously, unsuspecting of how far off in the distance he was once you found the courage to snap your eyes away from the ground. Slightly confused and more anxious than ever, you walked briskly to catch up to him, pacing up the steps to the manor as you tried to concentrate on keeping your footing solid. 

As you followed behind his figure within the exceptionally regal interior, you couldn't help but wonder where he came from. He moved with such grace and eloquence, it almost struck you as unearthly. No one else seemed inclined to tell, so you never asked. It wasn't your place to. Yet you would be lying if you said you didn't lie awake restless some nights and think about him, who he truly was. 

Your train of thought is interrupted when he stops in front of you, turning the doorknob to a room unknown to you. A lot of things were unknown to you, you realized. Getting lost within such an elaborate floorplan was a task you were sure you would excel at. The butler stepped to the side, gesturing for you to make your acquaintance with the room ahead of you. You momentarily display a gentle smile in his direction as you amble past him. Even when he wasn't standing within your proximity, you could feel the stillness of his body lingering, as if he were somehow everywhere but nowhere at all. He enters the room behind you, closing the door with a hushed click. 

Sheer linen curtains attempted to conceal the burst of rays that shone through the long, arched glass windows, naturally illuminating the tremendous architecture in the late afternoon sunshine. You notice a substantial bed with countless numbers of silk throw pillows arranged in a particular order. A matching ottoman sits at the foot of the intricately carved cherrywood frame, untouched. It is only now that you are suddenly questioning your surroundings. 

"If you would be so kind as to remove your uniform and lay face-down on the bed, I would like to attend to you as quickly as possible. There are dinner preparations I must see to." 

His request catches you off-guard and you're afraid you've misunderstood, creasing your brows in bewilderment at his choice of words. 

"You want me to...take off my clothes?" You ask carefully, quietly, becoming wary of his intentions to isolate you from the others. 

"Just the outer layer, yes. If I'm not mistaken, the thorns are in your skin, not your clothes." 

You raise your head slowly at him as if preparing to nod, his clarification dissolving any reproach that was beginning to form in your mind. You knew he wouldn't do anything irrational, but the thought of being half-naked before his eyes terrified you. 

He noticed your apparent trepidation and softened his gaze, placing a gloved palm over his chest as he bowed his head gingerly for the duration of time that he spoke.

"I can assure you that my intentions are pure, and I am a man of my word." 

You nod slowly to convey that you understood him, inhaling deeply as you considered the trouble he was going through just to clean up your mess. Declining his hospitality would have seemed ill-mannered, and you needn't him think you were wasting valuable time. His position remained static as he waited for you to undress, and it was only now that your rosy, heated cheeks began to suggest your obvious discontent. 

"Could you turn around?" You finally entreat, though you knew it would make no difference in a moment's time.

He responds deferentially, shifting his body until he stood with his back turned towards you. 

You swallow tensely, fingers fumbling to undo the laces on your boots before stepping out of them. You grab the hem of a single sock as you begin to peel it down your thigh, feeling the remnants of a few stray barbs scratch your tender skin. The next one is removed just as cautiously until all that persists is your uniform dress, to which you linger just a breath longer to shed. 

Your underclothes are elegant but racy, a black bra with simple trimmed lace and panties to match that reveal more of your smooth, round haunches than you would have liked for them to at this time. The situation becomes ill at ease as you're suddenly thrust back into similar circumstances you faced before being at the manor, but you force yourself to remain restful, repeating silently that you are here, and not there. You face the bed, sinking your knee into the mattress as you lay yourself down on the silk coverlet, face towards the window in a venture to focus your attention on the stupendous scenery of the outside world.

"I'm ready." You inform him, though you do not feel ready at all for Sebastian to bestow his atypical eyes upon your body. 

The window has done you little justice, you come to find out, as you see his reflection turn around swiftly and expand as he comes closer to you on the bed. You watch his movements and facial expression in the glass, but there is not so much as even a blink of his eye as he looks upon your bare skin. He grips a tip of his right glove with his teeth, pulling the accessory off with ease, fascinating you with his mannerisms. You're left in an even greater state of awe when you heed that he failed to remove his left one, contemplating why before the uncanny color of his nails averts your attention. 

"My, you've gotten yourself into quite the predicament. There are a few that are especially deep..." His voice muses as you watch him circle the most affected areas of your back gently with his fingertip. His conduct is respectable enough and you finally feel your body relax, only wincing when he touches a spot that is becoming notably swollen. 

"I'm afraid this may take longer than I anticipated." He speaks quietly to himself, suddenly rising from his spot beside you on the bed. He leaves you alone briefly before returning to the room with a tray of gauze pads, a pair of tweezers, and a vile of disinfectant. The space beside you dips with the weight of his body as he positions himself next to you again, soaking a wad of cotton in the alcohol. You gasp softly at the raw sensation of the compress on your skin, the substance stinging your wounds faintly. His next advance is most unsuspected as the tiny spicule lodged between your shoulder blades is tugged with the tip of the instrument, sending a jolt of prickling pain to emerge around the area. 

"Ow! Wait-" you yelp, feeling the thorn withdraw from your fragile skin without warning. Before you have time to recover, another sting nips at the lower part of your back and you withdraw, hastily snapping your head around to protest as he tries to go for a third. 

"I cannot remove them properly if you do not lie still-"

"Well, you're just snatching them out, it hurts!" You snap at him, using your elbows to push yourself up slightly. 

"It would be all the more painful if I were to remove them slowly, would it not?" 

You grumble at his words as you comprehend that he is right yet again, shoving your hands beneath a nearby pillow to readjust yourself as you spare no effort to calm yourself. In doing so, your side grazes his knee, but he seems to pay your physical contact with his body no mind. 

"Just try to be gentle." You soften your tone of voice, sighing as you catch a glimpse of him in your peripheral vision. 

"I will try my best." He assures pleasantly, proceeding to extract the rest of the thorns projecting from your back with the same vigor as if your reaction meant nothing. 

You try to ignore the stabs of pain you feel in the proceeding minutes, focusing instead on how he loomed over your frame. His face held an air of proficiency, his eyes focused yet still absent. Not once did they roam to any questionable areas or appear dishonest, and it was baffling that he was not distracted in the least bit by your physique. Even if he were containing himself, you had been through enough to know when somebody was sizing you up, and yet he had proved himself to be genuine. 

It was rather awkward being alone with him as the silence set in, and your thoughts start to twist as your imagination flourishes with more lecherous scenarios. He had the power to thrust himself upon you at any given moment, take away what insignificant shred of dignity you still possessed, and walk away as if nothing had ever happened at all. It was a devious thought to admit, but you would be anything but opposed to a similar reality. He was naturally attractive, and it had been years since someone had shown you what it felt like to receive unadulterated pleasure. And though his hands were frigid, they felt merciful and sweet on your skin. You hadn't a doubt that he could bestow upon you sensations that you had forgotten long before today, but you dared not give him the impression that you were some guileless whore. 

To distract yourself, you decided to break the silence amidst the room with a seemingly more relevant question. 

"So, you aren't going to...punish me or anything?"

"Would you like to be punished?" His unforeseen response comes lightheartedly as if he's jesting you, but you're unable to ignore the twinge of warmth in your stomach as his words bring to light a new fantasy in your mind. 

A part of you almost wants to say yes, but you knew that your thoughts rode a different wavelength, and you cared not to find out what his definition of punishment meant. 

"No, I'm okay," you reply humbly before continuing in an effort to fill the cumbersome void amid the both of you, "how many more are left? It stings a lot." 

"Only a bit more, though they are located below your waist. I understand if you would rather I not proceed." 

Your heart pulses as you realize he is referring to the part of your body that is more delicate and requires more docile attention. How is it possible that you've gone from being completely reserved to envisioning all the awful things you wanted him to do to you behind closed doors? 

"I-I'm fine with it, I don't mind." You quaver, trying to obscure the eager undertones present in your voice. He presents little reaction to your sudden change of heart, but you become suspicious that he has caught on to your lustful innuendo when a single fingertip trails down your side and to the curve of your bottom as if he's subconsciously feeling the shape of your anatomy.

You bite your tongue to suppress a sigh of enjoyment as you feel the digit continue to wander around your ample proportions, locating the tip of each thorn that protruded. This ejection seemed to hurt far less, but you could only imagine it was because you were more engrossed in the tingle that his fingers left on parts of you that he'd touched. At some point, you expected him to stop his teasing ministrations and grab a handful of your flesh instead, to which you would have willingly squealed with delight. Your mind drifted deeper into your reverie, imagining the way he would lick your supple, soft skin until you were squirming and fighting to undo his pants; the way his flawless lips would feel on every fervid inch of your body as those slender, agile fingers work their way inside of you, thrusting over and over until you're practically begging him to fuck you, ruin you. 

Your unforeseen daydream has flushed every ounce of color out of your face and beneath the pillow, you are grasping the sheets as you try to abruptly concentrate on something less entertaining. The air amid you suddenly feels suffocating as you fight the burning desire to sit up and ram your mouth against his, but he soon indicates to you that your longing might not have been as far out of reach as you initially presumed when he unmistakably begins to stroke your side with his fingertips. There's something deliberate in the way they linger on your waist; grasping here, caressing there, but you are past the point of playing coy, nearly trembling at the impressions he leaves on your skin while you utilize what diminishing will power you still have not to make a single noise. 

"Are you feeling alright?" He questions you ever-so-slightly in appeal, and you're unable to answer him right away, eventually sighing a rather amorous response as you assert that you're feeling "just fine." Unexpectedly, you feel his distinguishable cold palm connect with the back of one of your thighs, squeezing it with force too strong to be accidental as you involuntarily choke out a submissive moan. It becomes apparent to you that your business here was concluded a while ago, and a part of your mind tells you that this won't end well if you allow it to continue, but you could not possibly bear to ruin such a wonderful moment. 

"I certainly do hope so. It would be a shame for you to fall ill with still so much left to be done.” 

Though there's barely a discernable difference in his voice, you can sense that his rightful comportment is dissolving as he continues to grope you, sliding his palm up and down your back, cupping the plump surface of your posterior. Your breath hitches in your throat, but his physical intrusion was hardly unwelcome. You feel him closing in on you, leaning down to whisper something in your ear as his scent floods your nostrils.

"You're awfully quiet. Have I done something to upset you?" 

His words to you are merely superficial now, but you deduced his entire character to be as so just after a short while of being present within the estate. It's as if he knew you were hindering yourself in this very moment, pushing you to overstep your boundaries. 

"N-No, of course not..." Your strangled response emits itself as more of an exhale, confident in your attempt to conceal your arousal, though it had become ultimately futile. A fragment of you was unable to dismiss that he was exploiting you indefinitely, but you couldn't say that you wanted it to cease. You could feel his fingers sink fluidly into the crease betwixt your upper thighs, threatening to graze your damp nether regions that were merely protected by the thin, lacy covering of your underwear. 

"Sebastian-" 

"You should verily learn to be more careful. It would be most troublesome if I had to come to your aid once more on a similar occurrence," any outcry of spontaneity from you is silenced as you feel his lips brush the shell of your ear before he continues, "but perhaps, that is what you desire." 

You're not certain if what he is doing at this point is manipulation, but it does not dissuade you from letting any instance of amorous breaths slip past your lips as you roll over onto your back with outstretched arms, preparing to seal your yearning impulse to feel his body upon yours. 

Yet he is missing from your side and instead stands suddenly a few paces away, replacing his glove that had been removed before these events transpired. "Well, then. I do believe our business here is finished." His tone of voice has adjusted back to its silvery state, leaving you irked beyond your understanding as you watch him turn to leave, arms at your side in disappointment. "I see it most befitting that you spend the rest of your evening as you please. You have done more than satisfactory today."

You bring yourself to a sitting position on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest while you narrow your eyes in resentment at the wall ahead of you.

Before he has completely vanished beyond the other side of the wall, his feet come to a halting stop, and you hear Sebastian's chivalrous voice call out your name just loud enough for you to hear within the space of the room. He does not give you time to feel bitter for long, you come to discover, as he piques your lustful fancy once more and leaves you unable to form even a single word of response to his flattering remark.

"You have a spectacular body." 

An honest smile transforms your vexed facial expression, and you suddenly find yourself giddy with pride as his words linger in your mind after he has gone. Perhaps he hadn't thought so poorly of your prurient attitude as you initially thought. He was feeling you up, after all. You couldn't deny that the ambiguity of his comment left you even more bewildered than before, but you knew without hesitancy that this was just the beginning of your dalliance with the unusual butler. 


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! So there was originally not going to be a part two, but some people seemed to really enjoy the first part (i love u all) and wanted a second part and that got me all inspired so here it is! :^) don't expect a whole lot of detailed smut tho (so sorry) I just thought this would be a nice addition to the first half and I didn't really want this fic to end up being super duper long. Ngl I've been dying to write some fluff so this will probably be the last dark thing I write for a while D: not to mention it's hard af writing for Sebastian's character haaaaa so expect some cute things in the near future ^^

Your affiliation with Sebastian started out minuscule; an "accidental" brush to your side as he sauntered past you, unusually long periods of eye contact—which always left you stupefied and tinted crimson. Though it wasn't long before your daily life and emotions began to change drastically around the manor. You noticed the way he gradually began to isolate you from the others on tasks that often required more than two hands to accomplish. At times, he would loiter close behind you while he watched you struggle, often on your knees, as your dress would ride just a little higher up your thighs with each movement you made. Even so, you did the best you could to please him, and your efforts hardly went unnoticed. 

On a certain evening, his presence began to torment you when you'd rose from the bath and registered that your towel had gone missing. You thought nothing of it, presuming that you must have misplaced it before getting in as you ventured to your bedroom to retrieve it. You searched your quarters high and low, growing increasingly frustrated until an undeniably flawless voice froze every nerve in your body. 

"I suppose you might be looking for this." 

You can recall the way your limbs remained rooted to the floor as you stood there nude and dripping wet before his eyes, at a loss for any simple gesture of response. All strength to turn around and face him head-on was abandoned, but on this particular encounter, your uneasy mannerism was not tolerated. He moved to you with impossible silence, his chest pressed flush against your back as the tip of his nose grazed your damp hair. He inhaled deeply, unnaturally, before swiftly taking hold of your forearm to twist it behind you, shoving you forward gently until your knees bent forward, perched on the bed. 

"Tell me, how long do you intend to keep playing innocent, hm?" 

You remembered how smooth his tone was as it hummed in your ear, the way he'd pressed your powerless appendage further into your back, forcing you to deepen your arch against him as you whimpered helplessly. 

As one would expect in these circumstances, you upheld a virtuous display, though it was practically useless. Your sad attempt to remain bashful only agitated him, and he contorted your arm further, chuckling with amusement as you cried out in pain. 

"I'm beginning to suspect that your merciless teasing has no end. If it's of any relevance to you, I am not what most would consider a patient man." 

You can vaguely recollect the threatening aura in his voice, but subsequently, his presence vanished almost as mysteriously as it had appeared. You were left with a subliminal message that your scatterbrain did little to decode, along with the towel that you'd so desperately been searching for, now neatly folded beside you as if it had never been touched at all. 

After the situation that occurred that night, being alone with Sebastian instilled you with a sense of foreboding, though you knew something else persisted in the back of your mind along with it. Something strange and avid that you were desperate to explore. 

Fairly frequently, you found yourself in your room at the end of the day stark naked, letting your fingertips work their way around your body as you let your mind gravitate to the shameful thoughts of what he would do to you, how he would punish you over and over until tears streamed down your cheeks. By the time you'd reached the pulsing heat between your thighs, a few circles around your silky, swollen bud was all you needed before you were overflowing in the essence of your climax with a soft squeal of delight. 

You always applied yourself conscientiously to your work, but it became harder and harder to concentrate or get anything done when he was around. He'd (seemingly) caught you off-guard on a day that you busied yourself with folding the linens, requesting that you take a brief rest to see to a task that required your immediate attention. 

Moments later, your only priority became keeping your location with the butler concealed as you spared no effort to control the mewls of absolute bliss that erupted from your lips as you felt his tongue twist and lap at your dripping core beneath your work attire. 

Thenceforth, he'd taken it upon himself to interrupt your routine daily to get you off, often more than once, but you never disapproved. After giving in once, you couldn't seem to find an end, and things progressed with a rather unchaste fever. You knew better than to leave yourself vulnerable to this dangerous game, but there was some notion of never knowing what to expect that propelled you to keep playing it over and over. 

You could have only prayed that your engagement with Sebastian would have ended there, but rather, this exchange only escalated from bad to worse.

* * *

Perspiration trickled down every inch of your body, pooling within the most uncomfortable crevices as you forced yourself to focus on the oxygen flowing in and out of your lungs. It was a miracle that none of your other comrades had grown suspicious of your odd outbursts and feverish attitude as you worked alongside them, gripping the edges of an unclaimed pile of plywood as you felt yet another orgasm rack your lower body. 

"Are you feeling alright? You've been as stiff as a board for a half an hour!" 

You winced at Mey-Rin's long-awaited orotund voice as she approached you, grateful that she had been loud enough to drown out the low whir of the miniature bullet hidden deep inside of you. Sebastian had confiscated your underwear for the day, leaving you to perform your regimen with little to no support or coverage from the vibrator that promised to slide clean out of your body if you became any wetter. 

"Y-Yes, I'm fine. I promise." 

You flash the young maiden a reassuring smile, though she refuses to quit nagging you even as you face away from her. 

_"You needn't worry if you refrain from reaching climax. However, if you find that you cannot contain yourself, then I suppose the only fault to be drawn from such humiliation would be your failure to obey me."_

You simmered with indignation as you reminisced on his earlier words, suddenly aware of how saturated your inner thighs had become over the past few hours. At least they remained graciously hidden away beneath the dress of your uniform. 

"But it looks as though you've come down with a fever! Let me help you-"

"Mey-Rin, please!" Her fingers abruptly grasp your shoulder, to which you wince involuntarily as another sensation of faint bliss spreads throughout your abdomen that nearly brings you to your knees. 

You're becoming increasingly aware that with each passing second, you run the risk of exposing yourself. You could barely endure the thought of such an occurrence, positive that you would never be able to show your face around here again if that were to ensue.

She looks upon your crouched form with perplexed concern, completely oblivious to your condition as she places a gentle palm on your back. Your reddened cheeks are buried partially within your arms as you make the final appeal.

"Please- get Sebastian...tell him that I don't feel well and must be relieved of- my duties for the rest of the day." 

Your voice is strained with desperation as you try to speak quickly, pressing your knees together to stifle the drone of the device inside of you. Much to your gratification, she agrees and leaves your side to summon the damned butler. In the midst of your suffering, you're plagued with the distraction of a comparable experience that unfolded the first time you’d started work here, though the context of this incident was vastly different.

Before your workmate has returned, however, you get an impending sense of a presence to the rear of your huddled body; a feeling that has become all-too-familiar by now. You don't need to turn around to know exactly who is standing behind you.

"You're evil." 

The words are smoky but flat as they erupt from your weakened mouth, and you perceive Sebastian's simper drilling into the back of your skull like darts. 

"Am I?" 

An inquiry so devious yet irresistible sets your mind ablaze and you're unable to bridge the gap between being outside on the ground and the sensation of your stomach connecting with the silk fabric on the bed. You turn yourself over hazily with thighs parted no wider than an inch, attempting to lessen the intensity of the vibrations inside of you. You cared not to make the dire mistake of removing the buzzing gadget yourself, pleading for your superior to cease his erotic abuse, though your request is clearly ignored. 

By the time you're able to process his next intentions, his shoulders are repositioned at your waist as he squats, leveled enough to cast his sly, alluring eyes up at your expression that is numb with muted pleasure. You're determined incompetent to hold his gaze, to which he chides your inattentive conduct with a slight tap to your over-sensitive, quivering clit. He smirks faintly at your reaction.

"Dare I ask? Or will you confess the sin that you've so beautifully made of yourself on your own?" 

His fingers pinch your bud more roughly, an indication that he expected you to answer him. 

"Y-Yes..." The more intensely he fondled you, the less likely you were to keep your eyes fixated on his, to which he grabbed you firmly by the chin and guided your head back to his face. 

"Look at me when you speak." 

The heat in your face is becoming unbearable as you will yourself to obey him, keeping your expression locked with his as best as your frantic senses could manage.

"I said yes!" 

"Yes, what?" He narrows his eyes at your pathetic return, and you feel the speed of the vibrator inside of you suddenly escalate, dreadfully so. You whimper pitifully, thighs compressing in defense of your overstimulated interior, though his palms only separate them once more.

Your body is overcome with a bout of convulsions as tears are brought to your eyes, extending your feeble arms towards his hands that force your legs to remain open in an effort to push him away, even though you know it's useless. 

"Sebastian, p-please, take it out-"

"You're beginning to make me think that you may need more discipline than I presumed," for a split second, the corners of his mouth twist into a scowl as he clicks his tongue, "perhaps the degradation of disclosing your lecherous state to your associates will motivate you to acknowledge a simple question next time-" 

"Yes, I came! Okay? I had so many orgasms today that I can barely feel my fingertips! It's making me delirious and I'm one second from losing what's left of my fucking mind!" You riposted eagerly, feeling his fingertips clutch your thighs more violently as the ribald words blurted from your lips. Typically his competent, highbrow lexicon was hardly disturbing to you, yet somehow now it seemed patronizing under these circumstances. 

The rapid whirring of the contraption within you ceases at once, and for the first time in hours, a flow of relief ripples throughout your body as your nerves finally relax. You almost fail to notice that it hadn't been removed from you completely until his voice, oddly dulcet, penetrates your garbled thoughts. 

"My, such vulgarities from a young lady of your likeness are attractive, but it seems you've neglected to recall whom you're speaking to. You ought to be taught a lesson."

His graceful fingers tighten rather bluntly around an area on your ankle just above your Achilles tendon, pinching it firmly as a strange pressure overwhelms you. You're unable to stop the black spots that pull at the edge of your vision, losing the energy to question what was going on as his image became more and more obscure until eventually, it was nothing but a vague outline of an ominous silhouette. 

* * *

When you awake from your blackout, you discover yourself to be fully nude and completely immobile.

Your arms are bound tightly behind your back with black rope in a knot too intricate for you to squirm out of, a similar tether affixing your ankles together as you lay motionless on the silk spread, face-down. You're unfit to struggle, and the comprehension of your position begins to invade your mind as you quickly come to. Your encounters with Sebastian thus far had been perfervid; quick and often short-lived, but mostly harmless. Yet this time, for some reason, you were frightened beyond belief. 

There's no immediate sign of the conniving presence that fixated you in this stance within the room, but you know he is watching you, waiting to finally reveal himself.

"I-I'm sorry for whatever I've done, please just let me go." You call uncertainly into the blank surroundings, half-expecting to be heard. 

"What's gotten you so timid?" His voice startles you despite the fact that it is soft and alluring, discerning his form just a few inches from your body that you were sure had not been present just a few moments ago. The realization initiates you to boost your flustered state, wriggling slightly within your restraints. You feel his cool fingertips, now stripped from the material of his glove, trickle their way down your back and underneath your stomach, sampling your silken skin with a few light circles. "We've hardly begun." 

You gasp gently as you feel him grab your hips with both hands and shift your arched body to lay horizontally, your hunches nearly perched off the side of the bed. In this position, his slim fingers plummet their way within your puckered folds, gliding in and out as you felt new arousal begin to unfold inside of you. Breaths of pleasure slip past your lips as you focus on the way his digits stroked and probed you, intensifying their speed and vigor until you were audibly moaning, begging him not to stop. 

To your misfortune, his intentions for you were less pleasant. You hadn't a clue how he planned to break you, bestow upon you his deepest and most carnal desires. 

"Are you fond of arithmetic, my dear?" The seemingly amicable nature of such a question confounds you at the moment, but you answer without hesitation as you recollect his daunting words from earlier. 

"I-I guess so," your tremulous voice managed to respond, feeling a tiny drip of your leftover secretions slide down your inner thigh as he continues to interrogate you, his fingers refraining to pause their back-and-forth motions. 

"Very good. How would you like to play a game?" He considers, foreshadowing his suggestion with his free hand that crept up the back of your thigh and to one of your cheeks, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh. You're a bit disappointed to know that some—if not most—of him enjoyed seeing you in distress, but there was an unquestionable epiphany inside of your spirit that convinced you it was what you wanted, what you needed. 

"O-Okay." You exhale, your tone tinged with uneasiness as you listened to him explain the premise of his plans for you. 

"I'm going to strike this beautiful, shapely rear of yours until your flesh is blistered with welts, and you are to count each blow. A most effortless task, yes?" He proposes harmoniously, leaving you with an even stronger sense of hair-raising apprehension. You see as though you have no choice but to oblige, nodding as you accept your fate. Your wordless response is not gladly received, and as punishment, he yanks his fingers from inside of you and lands a swift, unexpected slap to your bottom. You wince in pain against the rope keeping you immobile, whining briefly as the area he struck began to prickle. 

"Use your words when you speak to me, you are not an idiot." He admonishes you, gently caressing your stinging flesh as if to soothe it. "Though you may as well be; you've already managed to miss your first cuff. That warrants you one extra." 

You're likewise unprepared for the second blow he grants you with before you have time to retort, curling your fingers until your nails dug into your palms. 

"Sebastian-"

"My, you're rather difficult today, aren't you?" He interrupts you, pushing your head that had strived to rise up in complaint back down onto the bed. It became evident to you how blatantly powerless you were against him, grousing as you pulled on your limbs that remained taut behind you. He disregards your purposeless struggling, pressing your face deeper into the sheets as his other hand connects with your ass that is unsurprisingly already beginning to feel the outcome. This blow seems to be more agonizing than the past two, and you quickly yelp out the first count with a high-pitched cry.

"There we go..." You detect the tone in his voice has become a pitch off, and it compels you to submit as fear overtakes your wit. He thrashes you several times over, and by the time you've reached your limit, your bottom is numb with red-hot, searing pain. You are positive that he had not left you bruise-less, but for some unorthodox reason, it felt nourishing, as if he were opening up a portal to your most sinful desires. 

As you recover, tears bead at the corners of your eyes and you blink them silently away, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip while you anticipated one last final assault, though it never came. Instead, you felt the weight of his palm lift from your skull, the back of his index finger softly wiping away the tears on your face. 

"I'm impressed, you managed that quite well. Almost too well..." He praised you suspiciously, letting the hand on your cheek slink down until it brushed softly against the crease of your sex, just barely parting your slick folds to reveal the recently developed onset of arousal that formed as a result of his cruel treatment. "Perhaps a more obscure part of you even enjoyed it..." 

He slowly, easily presses a few digits past the opening of your sticky borders to validate his accusation, ripping another whimper of euphoria from your lungs in the process as you're stretched open. The irritation and lack of feeling on your rear have begun to dwindle away, exchanged for the shred of warmth brought about by the movement of his fingers within you once more. It was becoming harder for you to stifle your apparent yearning, and you were curious as to how much longer he planned to keep this up.

In the midst of the hot-blooded smog that shrouded your mind, you felt a different finger start to prod at an area unlike anywhere you've ever touched before. Your awareness sparks to life as the sensation proceeds, and soon you feel fresh tears begin to well in your eyes as you realize the intent of his next ploy. 

"Please, not there-" you attempt to implore, but he merely ignores your appeal, shushing you softly as he circled the taut, pleated hole betwixt your sore haunches. You've subjected yourself to many questionable ventures, pushed your body beyond limits you wouldn't care to revisit again, but not once have you ever explored such a confidential area. 

Pleading with him is utterly ineffectual, you learn, but you prevail on, wagging your hips to and fro in an effort to keep his digit from breaking the barrier. 

"Stop resisting." The words are sharp as they exit his mouth, whipping his other fingers from their burial deep within your more familiar aperture to seize your fidgeting posterior. There wasn't much that could be done to flail or twist about once he'd steadied you with his nimble yet oddly forceful grip. The finger nudging at your second entrance vanished momentarily and you almost enabled ease to wash over you until you felt its occupancy once again, slathered generously in something slippery. 

The only source of your anxiety stemmed from having left this crevice otherwise uncharted, and any interaction with such became foreign. Yet you would only be deceiving yourself if you believed it to be completely disgraceful, especially knowing that the one to introduce you to such an unconventional act was no other than the butler himself. This perception allowed you to let up handsomely, though the second his finger popped past the seemingly impenetrable ring of muscle, you recoiled in horror. 

This scarcely averted him, and a string of hopeless snivels was all that blabbered past your lips as the digit sunk deeper and deeper inside of your virgin passage and then pulled back, re-entering with greater zeal as you failed to adjust. It was like nothing you'd ever felt before, a sensation uncomfortably tight-fitting and dense. 

"Please, Sebastian, it hurts..." 

"Don't be pathetic. You've endured far worse than this." 

You'd grown accustomed to the salty substance that repeatedly developed in your eyes, accepting its toil as your tears slid down your flushed cheeks and onto the silk beneath you. You tried to habituate your body to the internal commotion it was currently undergoing as you recognized his assumption. It prevailed to be true, and you'd almost felt silly afterward for griping over something that seemed so minuscule in comparison, but his unyielding rough manner validated your agony all the more as he showed you no mercy. 

Eventually, he lifted his hand that had been keeping your hips steady to re-fix his fingers inside of your vacant opening, now graciously filling both entrances as strange, unexperienced arousal began to slowly transform the dynamic of the situation. Your lips split ever so slightly as you concentrated on his long, smooth motions that stirred you, a subtle, pleasurable shudder jolting the lower half of your body each time he stroked his fingers forward. 

You had barely noticed the way your hips began to buck upwards into each squelching motion, blind to how excited you had become from such anomalous interplay. A sudden deep pressure began to gather within you, growing more intense as he seemed to knead your inner walls, faster and harder until you felt your entryways clench around him in unison. Despite all of the knowledge you'd had of the typical sensation of a climax, nothing could have prepared you for the onset of hot, transparent fluid that erupted at full tilt from your sex, dripping freely down your trembling thighs as you moaned incoherently. You barely had time to ponder if he would punish you even more severely for ruining the sheets with your ejaculation, but the feeling that had come and washed over you was so expeditious, any nagging fear you'd felt seemed insignificant. 

Sebastian's eyes nearly devoured you when you'd thought to peer your half-lidded gaze back at his frame that hovered behind you, grinning with blatant approval at your outburst. Your face felt hot enough to burn a well through the mattress, but this time your ruby-tinted complexion was purely born of self-consciousness. 

"Filthy girl." His voice was husky and dark as he murmured, twisting your lower abdomen into greedy knots with his contemptuous words as a rush of indignity shattered your mind. Yet you kept your abashed expression locked with his, even as he slid his fingers out of your body, guiding his left hand past your lips and into the wet cavern of your mouth. Your tongue seemed to move on its own as you sucked your release clean, too overcome with fatigue to question which hand had been where. You caught a glimpse of something black on the dorsal side of his palm as his fingers dug further into your throat, but it was difficult for your muddled eyes to decipher what it was, even against the pale surface of his skin. 

He seems to relish in the impression that your tongue left between his fingers, hesitating to pull them out of your mouth. In time, he grants their exit from your salivating extremity, leaving the awareness of your immoral behavior to befall you. 

"I-I'm...so sorry...I didn't mean to." Your voice is wobbly as you choke on your guilt, but he only acknowledges your unwarranted apology with a lascivious sneer. 

"There is no shame in allowing your body to explore its most lecherous desires." 

You aren't sure if his statement is meant to degrade you. Then again, you grappled with the idea that there was nothing you could do to redeem yourself anyhow. He'd awakened something internally that you were certain no other emotion could ever appease. It was thrilling, compassionate, salacious. You could feel even the deepest of your impurities surfacing, but there was no room in your enchanted mind to bother quieting them.

And then, as if your very thoughts were cellophane, his voice carries you further from reality. 

"You've spent your entire life concealing your deepest, most vile speculations. A most honorable woman with no real need to dissemble. All the while, you've been drowning, unaware of just how deep you've led yourself astray in your own sea of deceit. You are no saint, your soul is colored black," he angles his body closer to yours to encase his biting fingers around your neck, "and I will be the one to rouse you from your masquerade." 

It is nearly impossible at this juncture to sustain any retaliation, the disturbance of his evaluation leaving you in a state of revelation. Yet you fortify his demeaning divulgence as the titillation snowballs inside of you, overwhelmingly so, painting the perfect illustration of his derailment of your identity. 

You feel your vocal cords grating against one another but you don't call to mind ever trying to speak in the first place. 

You're gone, too far gone. 

"Close your eyes. Under no circumstances shall you open them, do you understand?" 

Sebastian's words seem garbled in your ears, but you accept his order reluctantly, letting your eyelids flutter shut without question. 

"Good girl."

The thin flaps of skin mask your naked eyes from any clear observation, but you can still detect the shroud of darkness that embodies you as you suddenly feel the open space behind you on the bed plunge so extensively, the wood of the baseboard starts to crack. How is it possible? There's a deep, guttural breathing that closes in upon you until you can feel the hair on the back of your neck rise. An impeccable sensation of terror engulfs your core as you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, paralyzed by whatever creature now crystallized in the wake of your blanketed vision. 

Razor-sharp claws threatened to lacerate your flesh as they raked down your side to latch onto your hips. An unspecified heat gathers at the newly-penetrated opening of your body, stiff and throbbing, that prepares to dehumanize you. Before you fall away completely, there's a sinister articulation that exhibits all things unholy, and it is only now that you make the connection and finally cognize what Sebastian had been hiding all this time.

"Tell me, do you give up now?" 

**Author's Note:**

> This was nothing special so pls don't take it too seriously! Just something to keep my mind creative in these trying times :^) Thank you for reading!


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